Newspaper Page Text
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The Red and Black
Friday, November 1, 1985
THE RED AND BLACK
Established 1893 — Incnrptjrated 1980
James Kendley, Editor-in-chief
Tommy Sims, Managing Editor
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Opinion
The sagas of Jesse and Hosea
Give us a break!
There are more than 150 days in the University academic
year. That works out to a little less than 2,100 hours during
which classes are taught.
That’s a lot of time. But the Arts and Sciences Faculty
Senate wants to make sure that every single one of those
hours is occupied in class time. We can understand that; the
more important Arts and Sciences classwork seems, the
more important the Arts and Sciences Faculty Senate
seems.
So, the senate drafts and passes a resolution that reads:
“Whereas the administration’s cancelling of classes for
the Homecoming parade sends a definite — if unintended —
message to the students that participation in extracurri
cular activities justifies absence of class and neglect .of
studies, be it therefore resolved that the Senate of the
Franklin College states its opposition to the cancellation of
University classes for any reasons other than legitimate
weather conditions or other emergency conditions’’
Give us a break.
We can tell from the pompous tone of the resolution that
the Arts and Sciences Faculty sees its curriculum as the
single most important part of the college experience. Within
limits, we agree. ,
But three hours? Cancelling three hours of classes will
bring the shining castle of academia crashing down around
our ears?
We doubt it.
The University experience is more than a succession of
classes. A fulfilling academic career demands more activity
than classwork offers.
That's perhaps a bitter pill for hardened academicians to
swallow, but it’s true.
The good things about the University outside of the class
room won’t go away just because the faculty senate ignores
them. We don’t think three hours is too much time to spend
acknowledging them.
It’s a good idea to continue the cancellation of those three
hours of classes for the Homecoming parade. It might
sharpen up the Arts and Sciences faculty to know they have
to toss three hours of chaff out of their lectures in order to
squeeze the academic year into a time three hours shorter.
some thoughts
erik johnson
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Editorial: 543-1809
Advertising: 543-1791
Last week the very different paths of two civil
rights leaders merged, if only for a moment. The
Rev. Jesse Jackson came to Athens just as the
Rev. Hosea Williams was wrapping up his suc
cessful campaign for the Atlanta City Council.
Jackson spent his day here making speeches to
community and youth groups It was before
these groups, more than at his speech at the Col
iseum, that the fervor of support for Jackson
really came through. Jackson walking through
an East Athens housing project was like a cross
between a movie star and a presidential candi
date.
As he walked along, accompanied by his entou
rage and a TV cameraman, people came out of
their houses to see what was going on. Once they
saw it was Jackson, some hugged him. some
shook l.is hand. Others just stared in disbelief
Jackson implored the people to accompany
him to his speech at the East Athens Community
Center. One woman said she couldn't come be
cause she had a chicken in the oven, but Jackson
took it in stride.
"What." he said "Is someone going to take
it?”
As he walked along, more and more children
joined him, some joking with him, some telling
him about their hopes for their own futures As
he approached the center, children began
laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Soon
all of them were laughing
At the center, the atmosphere was like a pep
rally spiced with a little evangelism Jackson
soon had the entire crowd chanting "I AM
SOMEBODY!”
Meanwhile in Atlanta another civil rights story
was being played out. Williams was elected to
the Atlanta City Council in a runoff election, de
feating incumbent Councilman Morris Finley.
Most whites now regard Hosea Williams as a
boob, a buffoon. His frequent arrests for drunk
driving and political opportunism have made
him an easy target for satire. His Atlanta cable
TV show has made for some of the best comedy
in television.
Michael Koenig
To dismiss him so easily is a mistake. What
ever his eccentricities nowadays, he was a true
hero of the civil rights movement.
His story is similar to that of a lot of black
men who served their country with courage in
WWII only to find hate and discrimination when
they returned home Williams was wounded in
Europe.
In 1946, while still in uniform, he was beaten
by a mob of whites for trying to drink from a
“whites only" water fountain in an Americus bus
station.
He became a chemist, comfortably middle-
class, but sacrificed that comfort to work with
the Southern Christian Leadership Conference
during the height of the civil rights struggle
Williams worked alongside Dr. Martin Luther
King as an SCLC official and he went to jail
many times for his beliefs
But it appears that he left something behind in
the civil rights struggle In recent years, Wil
liams has looked like a man desperately
searching for a demonstration. He endorsed
Ronald Reagan for president in 1960, then ac
cused civil rights-era colleagues like Atlanta
Mayor Andrew Young of betraying the cause be
cause they were willing to make deals with
whites
In Williams' 1984 race against Fifth District
Congressman Wyche Fowler, he greatly over-es
timated his support He was trounced by Fowler
and didn’t even win a majority of the black vote
Both of these men are out of fashion in much of
white America It has become politically chic re
cently to ignore the struggle, to think that we
achieved the landmark civil rights legislation of
the 1960s because our leaders suddenly came to
the realization that discrimination was wrong
Some people want the civil rights movement to
be over. They say that black people ought to
forget the legacy of 80 years of slavery and 100
years of exploitation and. achieve economic
equality simply because legislation has been
passed
To do so is to diminish the legacy of those who
sacrificed to fight for freedom In the civil rights
movement, some were jailed, some died
Jackson cannot forget In his speech at the Col
iseum he mentioned the three civil rights
workers, two Jews and one black who died in
Philadelphia, Miss, in 1964, shot down by the Ku
Klux Klan He also mentioned Hamilton Holmes
and Charlayne Hunter, the first two black stu
dents at the University of Georgia, led to class
under guard.
Williams cannot forget He owes his entire po
litical career to the his anger over the injustice
he saw and to his pledge that it never happen
again.
Both men remain angry Jackson has directed
his anger into motivating black children to
achieve as he has achieved while Williams still
demonstrates, convinced that the promise of jus
tice for poor people was never kept
For many, the promise never came true. For
all of Williams and Jackson's eccentricities and’
demagogueries, and there are many, they are
two of the few leaders who have pledged never to
forget the people who never made it, the people
who stayed poor in spite of all the liberal pieties
of congressmen and senators
And whatever anyone ultimately thinks of
them, they are to be celebrated because they
have never forgotten.
Michael Koenig is a senior reporter for The Red
and Black
Students: stand up for beliefs
Something 1 witnessed last week at College
Square stopped me dead in my tracks and made
me re-assess my thinking
Until this past Monday, I was among those
people who say that students today are apathetic
and only out to protect their self interests Many
students only seem concerned with how to
stretch their budgets, how to lose weight and
where to park their cars
But now I think differently. I, along with about
150 other Athenians and students, attended an
anti-apartheid rally on College Square I’ve
never really gotten involved in an event of this
kind because I try to remain removed in order to
maintain journalistic objectivity, but 1 was cov
ering the rally for a news story.
I’m not so naive to think that this rally was the
first sign of protest ever witnessed on this
campus, but it was the first that shook me by the
shoulders and made me feel that today's stu
dents aren’t all apathetic The rally made me re
alize that the spirit which sprung to life in the
’60s on college campuses throughout the country
is still alive, although it is far from being the
mighty, raging beast that history and memory
tell us it once was
Mingled in with my memories of the
Flintstones, Kool Aid and skinned knees are
foggy recollections of long-haired hippies staging
one protest after another "The protest of the
day” was visible on the University campus and
the streets of downtown Atlanta Even if you
weren't there, one could see the demonstralions
in living color on the pages of Life magazine or
on the evening news It seemed the nation was
rocking with sit-ins, rallies and protests, from
Selma and Montgomery to UCLA and Kent
State.
At that early age. I usually had no clue what
all the people were yelling and waving signs for
— I just knew that whenever our family car was
stopped at a redlight in downtown Atlanta,
someone with a sign or a stack of underground
newspapers was usually on the sidewalk and my
Mickey
Higginbotham
mother would say, "Don't look. They're all drug
addicts ”
Standing in the crowd of South African, black
and white students and local folks. I had the
feeling that a change for the better is possible if
only people will stand up and speak their minds
on issues that they feel are important. If enough
people join together, peaceful protests can bring
injustice to a halt Last week I saw people
joining together, and it gave me hope
This wasn't your usual "Sister Cindy lamblasts
whoremongers from the free speech platform”
kind of crowd There wasn't an enormous flock
gathered to question, poke fun or generally
heckle The people at the anti-apartheid rally
were there because they seemed genuinely inter
ested in the economic, moral and societal op
pression of blacks in South Africa
Example: A girl who looked to be about 19
years old sat on a bench with an intense look on
her face. She couldn’t hear what the speakers
were saying or what the crowd was chanting, but
she was totally engrossed in the event. Another
girl about her same age was standing by her, in
terpreting in sign language for her friend, who is
deaf, what the speakers said.
Example: A student from an Athens technical
school was downtown running errands when he
heard the speeches and chants echoing from Col
lege Square He said the spirit of the crowd
moved him and there was no way he could leave
until it was over.
Example: A 71-year-old Athens woman said
she was surprized at the size and mood of the
crowd. Although she is white and very far re
moved from conditions in South Africa, she took
part in the peaceful protest because she said she
wants to see an end to injustice
What do these people have in common? Their
lives are infinitely different, yet they all slowed
their busy lives long enough to pull together for a
common cause: to bring an end to injustice. And
they aren't the only ones out there. Many people
are striving to end what they term injustice, be it
the use of animals for medical testing, the
change of the legal drinking age or the arms
race
I think everyone wants an end to injustice, but
many are too busy trying to set a comfortable
pace in the rat race to try to do anything about
it. We're too busy, too lazy or too timid to try to
chart a course in the stormy sea of change
We’re worried about what other people will think
if we stand up for the underdog But we owe it to
ourselves to stand up and be counted, because at
some time, any of us could be the underdog
Some people look back on the turbulent period
of the '60s and '70s and ask if all the Vietnam
War, pro-choice and equal rights protests really
did any good Did those who gave their lives
during the anti-Vietnam War demonstration at
Kent State bring a halt to the war? Did those
killed during civil rights protests gain equal
treatment for blacks'* What good did all the ar
rests, injuries and deaths really do?
In some cases, these events caused panic, but
in most, they raised public concern and showed
symbolic support The point is, people were out
in public with a cause, trying to bring about a
change for the better however they could
Only a Utopian hopes for a perfect world, but
change is possible Although the spirit to strive
for change is alive, it is weak But it can grow —
if people will only stand up for what they believe
in.
Mickey Higginbotham is a senior reporter for
The Red and Black
Tales of journalists led astray
C*i«/Copv Editor Ruit) (artmill
Front Pag* Cop> Editor Janine Faucher
Copy Editor Lvmt Echnoi
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Librarian UGA Today Jill Kwrvtappir
Photography Editor (onn« Anderwon
Associate Nowi Editor! John Aldcn.
Suzanne Wood
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Feenry Gref Freeman Mickey Higginbotham
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It's a dark, rainy night. In the comer ol one of
the campus’ dimly lit parking lots, a man with
the late edition of the New York Times stuffed
under his left arm steps out of the shadows, his
face engulfed in the collar of his llama-lined
trench coat.
The man jumps into his black BMW 318i with
the power windows and rear defroster, lights an
imported cigar, and drives into the night.
Behind him a student is counting out twenties,
slowly.
This scene is repeated at countless colleges
across the nation every quarter, every year
The older man is. as he likes to call himself, a
"supporter” of the school. He believes what he is
doing is right. He believes his methods are the
only way for his alma mater to stay competitive
in the pursuit of this particular type of student
by whose efforts, the school remains on the lips
of Americans everywhere.
By now, with all of the national attention given
the subject, you probably know what the man
was doing, and you probably know what the stu
dent's extra-curricular activity is.
This is not an ordinary student
This is a talented student
This is a student who does not see anything
wrong with getting a little something extra for
his extra effort.
The scandalous, illegal recruiting of these
journalism students has got to stop, and we must
start with ourselves
It can't just be talk, student-reporters have got
to learn to say “no." Where are their principles?
Where are their standards' 1
There are stories, too many stories. They are
frightening
•Mel, University of New Hampshire State
Technical School
"Geez, I was only in high school when it
started I had just become the assistant copy ed
itor at the school paper, and I was only a sopho
more. I guess I didn't know how to handle the
pressure
"These people started calling day and night,
saying they were from some paper like the
Andrew Marlett
Washington Post or something
"They would tell me and my parents that they
had gone to some college or other and that I
should go there too because they had a great
photo lab or because that school had a direct line
to the "big" papers
"Then they started coming around the house,
giving candy to my little sister, copies of the En
quirer to my mom and golf clubs to my dad. I
kept trying to say no but I finally gave in and ac
cepted a gift. It was a player piano. It was the
first of many Gifts, not player pianos
“Anyway, from there I guess I got greedy I
began taking all sorts of recruiting bribes: elec
tric typewriters, krugerands, passes to game
shows, it was hell
“Now I have no self-respect, no dignity. God I
fell like like well like a Cook’s beer distributor
or something. "
•Susan. Colorado State University Tech A4M
College:
“I knew 1 was good I was an all-state reporter
in high school and I kind of expected something
for being special I knew that once 1 got to col
lege, I would have to put in extra hours, long
tough hours, at the school paper
“My editors took care of me. I got an easy
schedule, sometimes I didn’t even go to class I
guess one of the editors threatened or bought off
one of the professors or something, cause I got
by. Anyway, academics were never a problem
for me, they hardly existed.
"Except for the hard work on the paper, I had
it easy The guys were crazy about me, the girls
envied me. I had a new 280z every year One of
the alums even got me a cush job on campus,
where I got paid for doing practically nothing
"But somehow, things went wrong, way
wrong.
"I figured when 1 got out I’d be a real hot prop
erty. 1 thought I'd get a position at one of the big
gies, you know, the Times or the Tribune 1
finally got a call from the (Chicago I Tribune
after one of their reporters got hurt in some
freak typo accident and put a one inch deep am
persand in his left hand. Anyway, I went to
training, and they let me go after two weeks l
raised hell about it. Now no paper will touch me.
let alone talk to me Word is I've got a bad atti
tude.
"The big problem is I've got no alternatives
Reporting is the only thing I've ever known It's
the only thing I’m any good at. I didn’t even
bother graduating, because I figured, 'why?’ I
don't need the degree, I’m ready now
"I can’t even get a job at my old school, they
say they can’t help me. Recruiting ruined my
life."
Sad stories like those of Susan and Mel are not
rare. Ruthless college editors and heartless
alumni run rampant on campuses all across the
country.
There is danger in this madness that touches
more than the lives of prospective journalism
students and their families Always the possi
bility exists that this immoral practice could
spread to other fields
It’s possible. It really is.
We can’t let this happen and we must start
with ourselves, the pampered student reporters.
I myself pledge now to give back my unde
served red and black trans am, with its bi-level
air-conditioning and manual overdrive. I’ll quit
my $200 a week job as a waiter at Domino's
Pizza.
I urge all self-respecting journalists and pro
spective journalists to do likewise The school,
the press, your families and you will be better
off
Andrew Marlett ie a genior in the School of Jour
nalism